


Would you teach me?

by blurred_lines



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: (is it a plot if it's porn-related?), Accidental Voyeurism, Appropriate Use of the Force, Humor, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Meditation Porn, Porn With Plot, it depends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18055352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurred_lines/pseuds/blurred_lines
Summary: Obi-Wan was… well, meditating, probably, but this was most definitely a form of meditation Anakin wasn’t acquainted with. Like, not at all.





	1. Unexpected

When his commlink chirped and a bored clerk informed him that the Chancellor had postponed their meeting, Anakin grunted in frustration. He had hoped to be free for lunch so he could take Ahsoka to an unsavory and awfully greasy Malastarian fast-food he had discovered near the Works; it looked like they would have to wait for tomorrow to “indulge in their gluttony”, as Obi-Wan would have said, in the hope that they weren’t recalled to the front in the meantime.

On the bright side, this delay gave him the time to go check on Obi-Wan himself, whose stubborn behavior the previous evening in the Temple dojo had made Anakin worry. They had been sparring – nothing out of the ordinary – and yes, maybe Anakin had let himself get carried out a bit, crushing his old Master under his weight and pinning him to the floor with maybe, just maybe, too much enthusiasm, but there had been no need for Obi-Wan to shove him away like that before pretty much _running away_. Yes, he had been too eager to win, and perhaps he had not been careful enough, but surely he couldn’t have _hurt_ Obi-Wan that much, could he? Kriffing Obi-Wan Kenobi, afraid of getting hurt because he had fallen on his ass in the training halls?

Probably he was just pissed off because Anakin had quite _literally_ wiped the floor with his ass, but then it had to happen some day, didn’t it?

Anyway, he was going to check on him.

Luckily, the Senate had called him before he even left the hangars, so his way back to his Master’s quarters was short, only a ten minutes walk across the gigantic Temple and then another two down the sunlit corridor in the east residential wing where he had Obi-Wan had lived for ten years.

After his Knighting Anakin had been offered a small room of his own, but Obi-Wan had never bothered to change the door passcode; even though he pretended to be grumpy about it, Anakin knew that Obi-Wan was secretly delighted every time he came back from a hours-long Council session to find Anakin on his couch, waiting for him with a bottle of some lousy liquor and a b-holomovie.

Anakin, anyway, was a well-behaved former Padawan: before punching in the passcode he swiftly checked for Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force, just to be sure he wasn’t still sleeping. Not that Obi-Wan oversleeping was something likely to happen, but hey, he didn’t want to risk waking him up. The man needed to sleep.

 _Damn_.

Obi-Wan was there, all right, and awake, but by the looks of it he was so deep in meditation Anakin could as well make himself at home while he waited.

He punched the code in and silently got through the door, closing it behind him as quietly as he could, then peered into the living room from behind the refrigerator – and immediately knew that the sight before him would accompany him to the grave.

Obi-Wan was… well, meditating, probably, but this was most definitely a form of meditation Anakin wasn’t acquainted with. Like, not at all.

He was kneeling on his meditation pad, all right, his eyes were closed and his hands were resting lightly on his knees. This was where all the similarities with _regular_ meditation ended.

For starters, Obi-Wan was naked.

Totally, completely, utterly naked, not a single layer of linen covering his scarred chest or his strong legs or – _kriffing Sith hells_ _–_ his flushed, hard cock sprouting from a bush of curly ginger hairs.

Not that Anakin had never seen Obi-Wan naked, but not _this_ kind of naked, and this kind of naked had just sent an unexpected jolt of arousal through his body. Not totally unexpected, there had been moments - well, but unexpected enough.

Daylight was falling squarely on Obi-Wan through the open window, and Anakin took the sight in with a hunger he had never known in himself. Obi-Wan’s mouth was slacked, his breath coming in short pants, and there was a thin film of sweat glistening on his forehead, sticking to his usually perfect hair now ruffled by the gentle gust coming from outside.

A wave of pleasure shook his body, making him arch his spine even as he clearly tried to remain still; the knuckles on his knees contracted just slightly – and Anakin gaped.

Because it was clear that he _was_ getting off somehow, but his hands were firmly resting on his knees. Anakin’s eyes fell on Obi-Wan’s stiff cock, and he had to stifle a moan as he saw an invisible presence sliding the foreskin on the tip and then retreated, eliciting a gasp.

_Kriff it all. Talk about inappropriate use of the Force._

And _kriff it all -_ or  _kriff him all_ - was exactly what Anakin wanted to do, or at least what his body wanted to do, because he was getting painfully hard as he watched his Master’s cock stroked by the Force and tried with all his willpower not to slid a hand into his trouser to get off.

He watched the rhythm increased, his eyes caught by the way Obi-Wan's hips shivered as his body still tried to stand still, his knuckles now white, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Anakin knew he had to leave, and soon, but his feet seemed to have taken root in the floor; cupping the bulge in his trousers with his left hand to find what solace he could, he watched as precum leaked from the slit and was then spread back along Obi-Wan’s whole length, now glossy and slick, and for a maddened moment he wondered how it would feel to have that same cock in his mouth, glossy and slick because of him, heavy on his tongue. Unconsciously, he lifted two fingers to his lips and sucked their tip lightly.

In that moment something snapped in Obi-Wan: grunting a muffled _“no”_ , he threw back his head and arched his back, his whole body shaking. Without warning he fell forwards, on all four, and his hips started thrusting at a maddened rhythm, pounding hard into something unseen, all his previous, hard-gained composure lost.

When he came, hot white seed spurting from the swollen tip to fall onto the polished floor, Obi-Wan let out a broken, low sound that resounded deep into Anakin, dark lust pooling low inside him; he had to bit down his hand hard to stop himself from moaning. His own cock was still throbbing hard, painful against the leather of his trousers. He was unable to think, let alone to move.

“Kriff,” Obi-Wan muttered, his voice musky, and, before Anakin could even register the fact, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. 

To say Obi-Wan blushed would have been the understatement of the millennium. Slowly, he sat back on his heels, his still bleary eyes locked into Anakin's, his sweaty chest rising and falling in fast, short breaths.

Slowly, so slowly it was almost painful, driven by some unfathomable need, Anakin’s gaze dropped from Obi-Wan’s eyes to the still leaking tip of his cock to the white, sticky semen pooling on the floor. 

“Anakin. I can explain.”

The Hero with no Fear unashamedly ran for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did a franchise that started with a farm boy destroying a super weapon lead me to write gay monks porn, I have no idea.  
> George forgive me.


	2. Distracted

The first thing Anakin did as soon as the door to his room closed behind him was to slam his hand on the inside lock. He leaned against the wall, his chest heaving uncontrollably and his cock hard in his trousers. He had never before become so hard so fast.

All he had managed to think of as he fled Obi-Wan's quarters was the ragged, feral moanb he had made when he came. The purple tip of his cock streaked in white. His seed pooling on the polished floor. Without even realizing it, he let out a whimper at the thought, then blushed furiously at the memory of his own thoughts, his fantasy of taking Obi-Wan's cock in his mouth, the embarrassing arousal he felt as he remembered Obi-Wan's cum pooling on the floor. 

It wasn't as if he'd never realized how handsome his best friend was, or how tantalizing his body was when he practiced katas with only his pants on, light shimmering on his sweaty skin. But from acknowledging Obi-Wan's beauty to wanting to suck him off... That was stretching it a bit. 

And yet Anakin was  _achingly_ hard. Painfully. 

But he couldn't get off thinking about his best friend... or could he?  He stumbled towards the fresher, trying to think about Padmé's nipples between his lips, at the way her body used to arch when he licked her. But of course his mind wouldn't comply, and soon Padmé' s soft breast had turned into a strong, muscled chest under Anakin's lips, his tongue sliding over hardened nipples and copper curly hair. 

"Blast it," he groaned as he fumbled with his belt and his annoyingly tight leather pants. 

When his metal hand closed at last around his freed cock, Anakin let out a whimper. He let his head fall back against the wall as he lost himself in the hard feeling of his hand on his cock and the thought of Obi-Wan shaking in orgasm before him.

What made him so hard, he realized, was the fact that he had seen a part of Obi-Wan he had never known even existed, the confirmation that his beautiful former Master was more than just the image of the perfect Jedi, but a creature of flesh and blood, a creature that could come in white streaks all over the floor. 

Anakin was moaning again, his fingers finding a tighter grip and a faster pace, when someone knocked at his door, making him flinch. He knew the Force signature attached to his visitor only too well. Swearing under his breath he pulled his pants up, awkwardly aware that not even the thick leather would hide his straining erection. 

With all the experience of a General, he considered his possibilities.

He could play dead, but this would have Obi-Wan burst into the room. No, definitely not.

He could jump out of the window and run to Padmé, ask her to let him sleep on her couch until Obi-Wan was redeployed, and then he could return to the Temple and leave the Order so he would never have to face Obi-Wan again. The only problem was that he would leave Ahsoka alone and he didn’t really want to leave the Order anyway.

Or he could pretend he was not at home; a temporary solution until he got a better idea.

“Anakin, please, open the door. I can sense you are in there.”

Well, whatever.

“I’m coming, Master.”

Thinking that probably it would be better if he could just shut up because _I’m coming_ was the last thing he should have said, Anakin waved the door open.  _You wish you were coming, Skywalker,_ he thought.

Obi-Wan was standing in the doorway, fully dressed and perfectly groomed, every bit like the Jedi Master he was – or was supposed to be, because even if nowhere in the Jedi Code Force-masturbation was explicitly forbidden, Anakin was quite sure that it was not a practice Council Members were encouraged to indulge in. Or so he hoped. He didn’t want to think about _Yoda_ … ugh.

“Hello, Anakin.”

Obi-Wan’s voice brought back the memory of his aroused grunts, and Anakin had to suppress a shiver.

“Er… Ehm… Master, I… I’m sorry?”

Obi-Wan had the audacity to smirk.

“Let us try to make this less embarrassing than it already is, shall we?”

That said, he just strode into the small room without invitation and dropped his weight on Anakin’s meditation pad, sitting on the back of his heels just like Anakin had found him.

Anakin was desperately trying to find something to say, aware that Obi-Wan was trying not to stare at the bulge in his trousers. “Do… do you want some tea?”

“You have _tea_ in you room?”

“Cold tea.”

Obi-Wan grimaced. “That’s no tea.” He cleared his voice and gestured Anakin towards his own chair. “If you would just sit down, Anakin, I think I owe you an explanation.”

“I… No, you don’t,” Anakin blurted, sitting on the edge of his bed instead. “I… It’s not a big deal, you know, everyone does that.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows darted upwards.

“Yeah, well, I mean… not _like_ that, but… that.”

“I believe that what you are trying to tell me is that everyone masturbates,” Obi-Wan said, his tone calm and poised as if he was lecturing Anakin on the Ruusan Reformation or something equally boring. On his part, Anakin blushed violently. “I won’t disagree with you on that, but masturbating is notwhat I was doing. From a certain point of view,” he added blushing faintly, because probably some of Anakin’s disbelief must have shown on his face. “What I was doing was a terribly failed attempt at a very ancient form of meditation.”

“Meditation?”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan frowned. “I won’t lie to you and say it doesn’t bother me you saw me in such a private form of meditation, but what I am really sorry about is that you saw me losing control like that. I was in a very deep trance and I suppose I lost my focus when you entered the room. I must have felt the disturbance.”

“What kind of meditation is _that_?”

“It’s a kind of meditation that helps overcoming the distractions caused by sexual urges,” Obi-Wan explained calmly.

“That’s whacking off, Master, not mediating,even if you use the Force to do it,” Anakin said, his impertinence surprising even himself. “I can’t believe we’re actually having this conversation,” he added in a murmur.

Obi-Wan sighed. “Anakin, _whacking off_ , as you so elegantly put it, quells the symptoms but not the foundation of the distraction. The meditation I was attempting seeks to eradicate the problem altogether.”

Anakin winced. “You were trying to – to get rid of sexual desire? This is… _insane._ Unhealthy! The Code never said you can’t jerk off every once in a while! The Code doesn’t even forbid fucking!”

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but Anakin saw that under the mask of annoyance Obi-Wan was genuinely touched by his concern – and was still blushing, which made him even more attractive. “Sexual desire isn’t the problem here. The problem arises when such desires for someone are so intense as to become… an _hindrance_ for daily activities. And given what our daily activities are, I can’t allow myself to be so easily distracted.”

“You… distracted by sex?”

Obi-Wan gave him a lopsided smile. “Anakin, I’m human. I think I just gave you ample evidence of that.”

A memory of his fantasies about Obi-Wan’s cock in his mouth made Anakin shiver; trying to put the thought at the back of his mind, he wondered who in the Galaxy could arouse Obi-Wan this much? Siri Tachi was dead, Satine Kryze was dead, and Anakin couldn’t really imagine who among the handful of other people he knew Obi-Wan had had an affair with could affect him so much as to pose an actual problem. Probably he was thinking too loud, because Obi-Wan clearly got the thought.

“Who, my dear former Padawan, is none of your business.”

Anakin could only hope that Obi-Wan hadn’t caught the part of the thought about his cock in Anakin’s mouth as well.

 

***

 

Anakin was kneeling on the polished floor of the living room he’d once shared with his Master. The rays of the morning sun fell through the open windows on his tanned skin, and he basked in its pleasant warmth and in the sweet smell of early summer. His hands were tied behind his back, but he felt strangely free.

“Raise your head.”

Obediently, Anakin did as he was told, and smiled at the sight before him.

Obi-Wan was standing before him, his legs slightly askew and his arms crossed on his chest, naked as Anakin had seen him on that day when he’d stumbled upon his meditation, and just like that day, the sun was setting ablaze the threads of molten gold in his hair, in his beard, in the lovely patches of hair around his nipples and in the enticing stripe that ran down from his navel to the curls in his groin. His erect, reddened cock stood in lovely contrast against the fair skin of his stomach and thighs, so close to Anakin’s face that he had to close his eyes to stop himself from leaning forward and lick the beautiful drop on its tip.

“All in due time,” Obi-Wan said, teasingly but gently.

Anakin sighed when he felt Obi-Wan’s mind closing around his cock, the Force gently tugging at the shaft and the impression of a finger tracing the slit on its tip; he moaned when the Force began pulling harder and faster, and let out a high-pitched whimper when a feather-like impression grabbed and fondled his balls. He opened his eyes and looked at Obi-Wan, getting lost in the beautiful blue and his satisfied smile as he watched how he was making Anakin writhe on the floor without laying a finger on him, only the Force.

“I want…”

“What do you want, Anakin?” Obi-Wan’s voice was low, husky, and somehow proud.

“I want to taste you,” Anakin moaned. “I’ve wanted to taste you since that day. I want to know how you feel inside my mouth."

As a reply, Obi-Wan let out a low, approving groan and sank his fingers in Anakin’s hair. It was the first time they touched, and Anakin thought he could come right on the spot just by the feel of it as Obi-Wan tugged gently at his unruly curls before taking a step forward and guiding Anakin’s face to his groin.

Anakin let out a broken sigh and opened his lips, sticking his tongue out to lick at the precum smearing Obi-Wan's cock and finally, finally know the taste of him before taking him in – and woke up in a battered tent on Ord Mantell, Obi-Wan snoring softly next to him.

“Dammit,” Anakin growled as he crawled out of his bedroll. He checked the chrono and cursed again when he saw it was only fourth hour in the morning. The last two weeks had taught him that, after this kind of dreams, there was no way he could get back to sleep. He took up a discarded robe and draped it around his shoulders before getting out of the tent, casting a half-scornful, half-longing glance at Obi-Wan, who was sleeping without a care in the world, completely unaware of how much his so-called _meditation_ had disrupted Anakin’s life.

The cool night air was pleasant on his sweaty skin, but did nothing to appease his aching arousal; he knew from bitter experience that nothing save an earnest wank would. Not even in his worst teen years had he had so many wet dreams all at once, and not even as a newly-wed virgin had been so bad at managing his own lust. He had dreamt some variation on the theme of Obi-Wan touching him with the Force every single night since that blasted day at the Temple, which had been little less than three weeks before; the lack of sleep was beginning to weigh on him. Not to mention the fact that he wasn’t still really at ease with the thought that he’d gotten himself off for two weeks over thoughts of his former Master and best friend.

Sighing, he began to climb the small cliff overlooking their camp; he’d spotted the place the night before, in his preemptive search for the right spot for his nocturnal excursions. The top of the cliff had a commanding view over the camp and the roads from the nearby villages, and the huge trees would provide him the privacy he needed.

He reached his destination after a few minutes, and was still achingly hard; the image of Obi-Wan’s cock looming before his face just out of reach was driving him mad. He slumped on the ground, too tired to stand, leaning his back against the musky trunk of the massive tree, and pulled down his pants.

He picked up his dream where he’d left it as his hand closed on his cock; the images were still so fresh that he could almost see his fantasy before his eyes. Slowly he started to stroke himself, thinking of his lips closing on Obi-Wan’s cock and sucking at it lightly, and let out a yearning sigh as he tried to imagine what it would taste like.

With his flesh hand he fondled his sack just like Obi-Wan had done with the Force in his dreams, applying a slight pressure to the area behind him, and forced himself not to think of what he could picture Obi-Wan doing to that specific spot of him with the Force.

He imagined Obi-Wan grabbing his head instead, forcing him to take his cock deeper, to almost choke on it, Anakin’s nose buried in the hair at Obi-Wan’s groin. He stroke himself faster, tightening his grip at the base and then pulling, and was about to come when he sensed someone climbing up the cliff.

_Obi-Wan._

This time, he wouldn't be interrupted. The mere thought of Obi-Wan finding him like this, with his legs apart on the ground and his cock in his hand as he stroked himself desperately, was so arousing Anakin felt himself shiver. But he didn't want to be found as much as he wanted to come, and he knew himself enough to know he wouldn't be able to come before Obi-Wan, not like this. 

As the steps grew nearer, Anakin intensified his pace, almost rubbing himself sore. He thought of his dream, of Obi-Wan holding Anakin's head and thrusting his cock inside Anakin's mouth, so deep and hard it slammed and slammed against his throat. 

Anakin came on his synth-leather glove in rivulets of white hot cum, letting out a high-pitched whimper.

“Anakin?”

He pulled up his pants with a swift motion, feeling torn between disgusted and aroused at the wet sensation of his warm cum trapped in the leather of his trousers. His head was still light and his body was still shaking from his orgasm. It was impossible Obi-Wan could miss it.

“Master? What - what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice still hoarse.

Obi-Wan appeared from behind the drop of the cliff; he hauled himself up and came to sit beside Anakin, who hid his hand still covered in semen behind his back.

“I was hoping you’d come back to bed,” Obi-Wan said at last. Before them, across the flatlands below the cliff and the camp, a thin orange line at the horizon heralded the first rays of dawn.

“I can’t sleep,” Anakin said.

“Dreams?”

“Yes.”

“They aren’t nightmares.”

This wasn’t a question.

“No.” Anakin took a deep breath. This couldn’t go on any longer. He needed to sleep, or one day he would be too tired to parry a blaster bolt. “Obi-Wan, that meditation… Would you teach me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and kudos <3 <3 <3


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